Gear Shift
by Strawberry Shortcake123
Summary: Tony, Ziva, and an empty gas tank, stuck in the middle of nowhere. Tiva smut. Oneshot. Rating is there for a reason; please read responsibly.


**This particular piece of smut was inspired by a Geico commercial. Not even joking.**

**It takes place in June… like, several months from now, June. :P Because they'll be together by the end of the season, methinks, so the timeline fits.**

**Okay. Enjoy!**

Ziva squints out the windshield, wondering what's taking Tony so long to inspect the car's engine. The raised hood prevents her from seeing anything but a tuft of hair. A second later, his head disappears completely, presumably as he ducks down to focus. She checks the clock. It's about eight, meaning they've been stuck on this dirt road in rural Virginia, forty miles from home, for fifteen minutes now. She has her doubts that there's somebody who can come get the car running again this late, and that worries her. The middle of nowhere is _not_ where she would prefer to spend the night.

Giving into her growing agitation, she rolls down the window and yells, "What's wrong with it?"

"I don't know," Tony calls back, which doesn't exactly reassure her. A moment later, the driver's side door opens and he climbs inside. Beads of sweat, the result of standing out in the humid June air, are gathered on his nose. He turns the key in the ignition a couple of times, but the car doesn't do anything. "Huh."

It is then that she notices the gas gauge. "Tony."

"What?"

Ziva points. He follows the direction of her finger until his eyes land on the bright red _E_. "We are out of gas," she says. "How did you not notice that?" "You didn't either," he retorts.

"You were the one driving! I _wanted_ to drive-"

"And I wanted to live." Tony sighs in frustration. "Okay. Great. So we need somebody to bring us some gas."

Their gazes lock. She knows that he, too, is thinking that Gibbs is the logical person to call right now… but also that Gibbs will _kill_ them for making him drive out here so late.

"You do it," Tony says, grabbing her cell phone from the middle console and holding it out.

"I would rather not."

"Let's flip a coin." After she gives a nod of hesitant approval, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a quarter. "Heads or tails?"

"Heads."

Tony uses his thumb to send the quarter turning through the air, then catches it and slaps it onto his wrist. He removes his hand and hoots victoriously. She cringes.

"Tails! You have fun talking to the boss man, Agent David," he says. Ziva glares. Before she can come up with some witty remark, though, Tony is leaning over and giving her a peck on the mouth. Even as she presses number two on her speed dial, she can't resist the urge to smile.

He grins back, placing a hand on her knee, and his touch causes her skin to tingle. She struggles to focus when Gibbs gruffly greets her with a, "Yeah."

"Uh… hello," she says. Tony sniggers. "We have, um, run out of gas."

A pause. "You kidding me right now, David?"

"No."

"Can't you walk somewhere and get more?"

Gibbs is speaking loudly enough that Tony can hear, too. Ziva looks to him, and he shakes his head. "We are pretty far outside town," she says into the phone.

"I'll send McGee," Gibbs says briskly. "Keep your phones on so he can figure out where the hell you are." The line goes dead.

"McGee is bringing us gas," Ziva announces unnecessarily, tucking her phone in her pocket. When she looks up, she finds Tony staring right at her. "What?"

He leans over and nuzzles her cheek. She tenses, surprised- their relationship is still fairly new, and these random gestures of his tend to startle her. But she soon relaxes, moves her head to the side in order to briefly capture his lips. They are warm, moist.

"Well," he says, pulling away, his hand creeping higher up her thigh, "looks like we've got some time to kill."

Ziva's heart rate speeds up, and her mind jumps to conclusions as she considers just what he might have in mind. "How do you suggest we do that?"

He moves his hand between her legs and cups her over the material of her slacks. She bites her lip hard enough that she fears she might draw blood. They are sleeping together, yes, but always in one of their apartments, and always in a bed. It has been very intimate, sweet lovemaking. The element of spontaneity has yet to be discovered between them. She is both excited and anxious to think that they could amend that tonight.

His fingertips begin to trail slowly back and forth. As that familiar want for him sets in, she becomes more willing than anything. He stops the movements only to skillfully undo the top button of her slacks and unzip them; then he tucks his fingers under her fly, under her silk panties, uses them to comb through her curls. Ziva inhales sharply when his bare skin meets hers. She lets her eyes droop to half-mast as he begins to work in a rhythm she responds well to: several long strokes, increased pressure on her clit, and repeat. It is a tantalizing process, something they've grown used to in these past few weeks. Usually, she loves the slow buildup; it makes the orgasm that much more satisfying. But now, she feels different. Perhaps it is the cover of night, or perhaps she is excited by the risk of being discovered- they _are_ on the side of a road, after all. Whatever it is, she is in the mood to pick up the pace, and she tells him so.

"Go faster," she orders. "No, hold on." She pulls at his wrist and pushes it away so she can pull her slacks and underwear off, granting him easier access. They are flung into the back. Tony, stooping low, scoots over the console and squeezes in beside her in the passenger seat, his front pressed against the length of her side. She pulls him close and kisses him, then his cheeks and chin and jaw. He sighs contentedly. "Tony," she prompts, reminding him what his job here is, and pulls away. He takes the cue; this time, he goes straight to her clit, pushes down hard on it, rubs in circles. She feels herself grow wet. Tony groans, presumably for just that reason.

Desire has been flourishing within her, and it explodes when he hits a particularly sensitive nerve. Involuntarily, she jerks her hips. Tony responds by upping the intensity of his ministrations so that they are both amazing and borderline painful. Ziva can feel her senses dulling, her universe narrowing down to _Tony, Tony, Tony._

Without missing a beat down below, he props his chin on her shoulder and starts to speak right next to her ear. "You know what's awesome about being out here with nobody around?"

The synapses in her brain are not working at all, making her incapable of replying.

"You could scream," he murmurs. "I know you always gotta try to keep it in at home, but out here, you can scream as loud as you want to."

It is such a tempting offer. She is on the edge already, just barely holding on to her sanity. Tony uses his free hand to gently massage her breast through her shirt. She shuts her eyes- and then he suddenly, unexpectedly, enters her. As her walls contract, pulling him in deeper, he gives a hard push. Nothing more is needed; that one sharp upward motion does it. Ziva feels heat surging through every vein, and she loses feeling in every limb, and, yes, she does scream. It is not merely a cry or a gasp; she hears the high octave herself, the auditory evidence of her ecstasy, and it is amazing to have that kind of freedom.

She falls into Tony's side, one arm draping haphazardly across his middle. He places both his hands on her back in a completely innocuous gesture- he's holding her. That's all. And she has to wonder, through her hazy mind, how he can make her feel so safe and yet so much like a woman.

Tony gathers all her hair over one shoulder when he looks at her. "You okay?"

"Yes," Ziva breathes, dragging her hand up his chest. "What time is it?"

"Uh… eight-fifteen. We've still got… I'd say… forty-five minutes before McGee gets here." Suggestively, he adds, "Longer if McScout gets lost."

She chuckles hoarsely. "Oh, really."

He hums, but doesn't say anything coherent. He's too busy pressing soft kisses to her neck. Ziva tilts her head to the side, giving him more leeway, and tangles the fingers of one hand in his hair. She thoroughly enjoys the attention he showers on her, the way he anchors onto her hips for balance. As he moves down to her collarbone, though, her gaze lands on the noticeable bulge in his pants, and a grin overtakes her face.

Tony isn't paying attention to what she's doing until she touches him. Then he jumps slightly, prompting a laugh from her. "Oh," he sighs, cheeks turning a mild shade of red that she finds endearing. "That."

It occurs to her that while she is wearing nothing below the waist, he is fully clothed. She sets about changing that, tugging his pants, then his boxers, down to his knees. As his erection is freed from the confines of the cloth, he moans loudly.

Ziva nudges him, and he scoots into the middle of the passenger seat. Once he's there, she turns and slings one knee over his lap, effectively straddling him. Tony watches her, eyes growing darker and darker, as she begins to caress his shaft. New energy surges through her, and she puts her lips up against his, allowing him to feel and taste her at the same time. His hands smooth over the curve of her ass.

"Hey," he mutters into her mouth. "I love you."

It's not the first time those three words have been uttered- after they began dating, they were actually fairly quick to exchange the sentiment- but she is definitely not opposed to being reminded. She pulls away to reply, "I love you, too," and rubs his head with her thumb.

Tony slips a hand beneath the hem of her shirt and expertly undoes the front clasp of her bra. The cups fall to the sides, leaving her breasts bare. He tweaks her nipple once before she slaps his hand.

"You had your way with me," she scolds playfully. "I'm working here."

He throws back his head and laughs. "Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "Please, ninja. Proceed."

She brings his balls into her grasp and does so. At first, the atmosphere is the same as it has been, but as Tony's grunts grow more and more frequent and his cock grows ever harder and they prepare for what is coming soon, the lightheartedness dissipates. Ziva ends up biting the inside of her cheek in concentration. By now, she knows his preferences, and she is good at getting him to where he wants to be. She rolls his shaft between her palms, gradually moving downward, and then traces his tip before gently kneading him. Occasionally, she adds in something he is not expecting, just to see him twitch in surprise, Adam's apple bobbing. Catching him off guard that way gives her a little thrill she cannot quite explain.

When she is ready and senses that he is, too, she reaches over the side of the seat and pulls the lever there. Tony yelps as his backrest comes out from behind him; a second later, he is splayed below her. Blinking dazedly, he asks, "What was that?"

"I thought this might be more comfortable," she says, getting up on her knees and hovering right above his pelvis. At his nod, she slowly- and _finally_- sinks onto him. He reaches between their bodies, helping to guide himself inside her. When the angle is right, Ziva lets out a contented sigh. She has discovered, over the course of the past couple months, that simply being one with Tony DiNozzo gives her an extraordinary amount of satisfaction.

"This is good," he says. She lowers herself so her body is parallel with his, resting her elbows beside his head. He quickly kisses her nose, then spreads his fingers over her waist and begins to move his hips. Placing her forehead down on his, Ziva takes a moment to enjoy the sensation of him filling her. Then he teasingly chastises, "Am I doing all the work here?" and she giggles. She is starting to feel drained; even so, she does copy the furious motions. They are in sync. Just like always.

Tony is gripping her hair, breathing shallowly, and she knows that he is close. She wills her walls to clench around him, to pull him in farther, farther, as far as possible. He bucks beneath her. It is all she can do not to make noise at that thrust, but she has willpower, and she stays quiet.

A few more seconds of this, of their driving together, and Tony lets out an unintelligible exclamation as he spills into her. Ziva, with a small smile on her face, rubs and kisses his chest comfortingly when he goes limp for a minute or so.

"Hold on," he tells her. And then she must squeeze her eyes shut, because her second climax is in progress and he has resumed pounding into her, trying to get her there. She digs her nails into his upper arms in anticipation. He reaches down and lets his touch accentuate the wonders already being worked by his length. Ziva _wants_ to fall over the edge again, she really does, but Tony has brought her so close already, and assisting him would require her to act when she is quite enjoying lying still.

So she does, and she does not end up waiting that long, anyway, before her body feels hot and heavy and she screams once again- this time, it's his name. And when she collapses in his arms afterward, Tony brings her close to him, whispering sweet words of adoration as their legs entwine and the car's windshield fogs up.

0000000000

By the time McGee arrives, Tony and Ziva have redressed, finger-combed their hair, and regained completely unsuspicious appearances. They've been waiting in comfortable silence for about ten minutes now, but as their teammate approaches the car, Ziva nudges Tony and grins suggestively. "I am, ah… sticky."

"We could probably both use a shower," he says with a wink.

Then McGee raps on Ziva's window, and they are back to pretending that nothing happened or will be happening at any time in the near future.

The two of them know better, though.

And for now, it's a secret they're happy to keep.


End file.
